Sacred Circle (7 page)

“You're one smart witch, Miss Sage.”

She grunted.

“I'm not taking any chances. Sometimes, a negative environment throws off splintered, harmful energies that just beg to be smudged.”

The Jeep sailed through the interior compound gate, and Devlin lifted his foot from the accelerator, wondering if Brianna sensed the energy shift in the air.

“I've noticed,” Brianna replied, as if reading his mind. “My suggestion would be to put the ‘pedal to the metal' and see if we can outrun the feeling.”

Devlin increased the vehicle's speed to forty-five, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

“Given our time away from here, we shouldn't be feeling anything at all.”

“Well, remember, we used to be about ‘blessed be' and ‘harm none.' I don't imagine spirit differentiates between the old days and now.”

“Right, so let's just carry on, and chalk the feeling up to good old-fashioned nerves.”

“I like that suggestion. So mote it be.”

Devlin brought the vehicle to a cool fifty-miles per hour and the Jeep sailed through the last of the interior gates without any further jerks, bumps, or unease. That is, until they reached the middle of the compound and found the Main Street plaza totally empty—except for a black streak flashing in front of the car at breakneck speed. Devlin hit the brakes, watching the cat disappear into the shrubs alongside the front bumper.

“Damned crazy cat!” he muttered.

“Cat? Where?” Brianna came alive, bending across his lap and glancing out the window. She searched the bushes for a pair of glittering, yellow eyes, unaware of the effect her sprawled body was having on his lower body. In seconds, she was back in the passenger seat, grousing. “If there's a cat about, we need to find it. It may belong to mother, which means it will know something we don't know.”

“You are not going to bond with a cat, Brianna, no matter how bad things get,” Devlin said. She looked startled by the suggestion, but wisely held her tongue as he took his foot off the brake. “I mean it,” he emphasized, stepping on the gas. “You are not going to throw away your life in D.C. on the off chance a damn cat knows something about something.”

“How do you know I live in Washington?” Brianna asked. “I didn't tell you.”

“You flew in on a plane from D.C.”

“I could've changed planes.”

“Drop the subject,” Devlin stated, “Concentrate on the matter at hand.”

She snapped her mouth shut, doing as he suggested, and glancing at the storefronts they were passing.

“Where is everyone?” she finally asked, “Surely the entire congregation can't have fallen ill in such a short time.”

“Perhaps the Elders initiated a house quarantine—to insure there'd be no further outbreak.”

“I didn't see any warning signs signaling that, did you?”

Devlin's gaze scanned the center street gazebo.

“No, but they might not have had a chance to post the signs.”

“They're probably conducting prayer vigils in the Healing Center.”

“Leave it to you to make excuses for their poor judgment,” Devlin stated. He stepped on the gas pedal, towards the row of buildings at the end of the main drive.

“I'm not taking sides, Devlin. I'm becoming alarmed.”

“Well, stow your fear before it gets the better of you. It's up to us to keep our heads on straight while we're assessing how bad things really are.”

“It feels contagious.”

“Stow that kind of thinking as well. I don't relish ending up in a bed alongside your parents.”

“No. And I don't relish having to call the local police and say ‘excuse me, my parents are witches in your jurisdiction, and someone seems to have placed a terrible curse on them. Can you send a team out to investigate?'”

Devlin ignored her sarcasm, concentrating on getting to the clinic as fast as possible. Three turns later, the Jeep braked to a stop in front of a three-story stone building. He studied the row of wreaths covering the sidewalk and clinic doorway. His glance drifted to Brianna, who was chewing on her lower lip.

“Let's not think the worst yet,” he advised. “Let's assume that this incident is a freak accident of nature. If we go from that premise, we should be able to zero in on the problem and rectify it.”

He saw a look of alarm stain her face and knew her thoughts had flown back fifteen years.

“Neither of us is going near a Sacred Circle again,” she said. “We're here to give moral support and offer suggestions. Outside of that, we're not going to get involved.”

“You're not my keeper, Brianna.”

“I mean it, Devlin. We're visitors here, nothing more.”

“Well, then the sooner we get out of this car and find Doctor Ellis, the sooner I will no longer need you as my babysitter.”

“So mote it be,” Brianna stated, lifting the door handle and pushing the door open. Her smile was grim as she slipped from the front seat into the shadows of a single streetlight, but he had no chance to offer an answer. Her door slammed shut with a soft clunk.

Frowning, Devlin slid from the Jeep. They should've never come home. The current incident was like something out of an Exorcist film, where none of the characters had the slightest skill or knowledge to thwart an evil possession.

“Earth to Devlin,” came a hurried call.

Devlin snapped his mind back to reality, slamming the car door shut and joining Brianna at the front of the Jeep. He gave a long sigh.

“Ready. Set. Go.”

“No use stalling,” Brianna said, studying the bouquets of flowers lining the sidewalk in front of them.

“It's not about stalling,” Devlin replied. “It's about staying grounded and being prepared for anything.”

He was right, Brianna knew. There was coven protocol to follow. Without the council's blessing, their stay in the coven would be drive-in, drive-out. They had to find Doctor Ellis and elicit his backing before they met any of the other Elders, and then when they had secured his blessing, they would push for information on what had occurred in the circle to cause her mother's unconsciousness.

Had she opened a portal between worlds and forgot to close it? No, she had thought long and hard about that question during the plane ride, and she had come to the conclusion that her mother didn't make those kinds of mistakes. She had been conducting Sacred Circles for decades. If anything, her mother had been interrupted during her ceremony, and been unable to close the portal.

“There's Brad,” Devlin stated. “I called him from the airport, by the way. Told him to expect us.”

Brianna squinted, studying the figure striding out of the shadows.

“He looks old and worn down,” she commented.

“Solving an epidemic would turn anyone's hair white.”

“Amen.”

Stepping into a pool of light, the doctor's expression came to life. He offered his hand to Brianna as he reached her.

“You've grown into the spitting image of your mother, Brianna.” His gaze shot to the man beside her. “Thanks for the heads-up call, Devlin.” He held his hand out and Devlin shook it, nodding.

“Good to see you again, Doctor.”

“Call me Brad. We're way past ‘doctor' now.” His gaze swung back to Brianna. “I was floored when Devlin called and said you were coming. I can't guarantee your being here will be received gracefully by the members, though.”

“What about visitors? We didn't see any warning signs posted that the commune was closed to visitors,” Devlin said.

A surprised look crossed the doctor's face.

“The commune shuts down for a month every year at this time. Didn't you know?”

His question sent an odd prickling along Brianna's scalp, and she took it as a warning. What was spirit trying to call her attention to? The commune's closing and how it tied to her mother? Or her jitters at being thrust back into her past so rapidly? She brought her gaze back to the doctor.

“Don't you find it odd that this incident occurred right at this time, Brad?”

“No, I didn't think it odd—at least, not until this moment.”

“What are you thinking?” Devlin asked.

“It's as if this incident was pre-planned,” Brianna replied. “The timing, I mean—so as not to include outsiders. You and I both know from experience that spirit never follows a plan. But this all feels staged to me.” Her hands indicated the area around them. “The energy hanging about the grounds is off; not a lot in some places, but certainly bold in others.” She studied the men's baffled expressions and changed the subject abruptly. “I'd like to take a look at Mother as soon as possible. If her energy level is off the charts, then we will know that she is the cause of the illnesses occurring and take steps to remedy it.”

A quick shake of the doctor's head occurred.

“We tried that; it didn't work.”

“Yes, but I haven't offered a solution.”

“True; however, we've a more pressing problem—namely, invoking the Dispensation Law with your father.”

“And how do we do that?” Brianna asked.

He fished in his pocket.

“With this.” He hauled out the Coven Pentagram and flashed it at the pair. “If you evoke the dispensation, it will buy you a twenty-four hour free ride pass with the Elders. Do you remember the words?”

Devlin took the Pentagram from his fingers.

“She remembers.” He handed the amulet to Brianna. “You do remember, right?”

She made a face at him and then turned, following the doctor up the clinic steps.

Entering the main foyer behind him, Brianna shivered at the eerie silence. She hoped the rest of the clinic wasn't as depressing as this. She could already feel the tension in Devlin's hand on her arm. Unlike her, though, he was successfully concealing his rattled nerves.

Reaching the elevator, the ends of Brianna's hair suddenly lifted from her neck. Now, what was that for? She glanced over her shoulder at the walls behind her.

“If I didn't know better, I'd think a negative presence was residing in the hallway.”

Devlin's gaze followed hers.

“Can that kind of talk. Concentrate on concocting a letting go spell for the community instead. The Universe will reward your efforts.”

The light above the elevator door popped on, followed by a light “ding,” and Brianna slipped inside the cage before the door was half-way open. The door finally closed and she gave a sigh of relief. A moment later, she spoke up.

“The energy in the compound could be off because a negative entity hitched a ride on Mother's essence sometime during her ritual, and she didn't notice.”

“That would explain her collapse,” Devlin replied, “but it doesn't explain why so many members of the congregation have been struck down. Of course, it would if the ritual tanked because of carelessness.”

Brianna dismissed the thought.

“Mother doesn't make those kinds of mistakes.”

The elevator “ding” came again, and the cage door slid open. Brianna scanned the corridor ahead, holding the door open with her hand before stepping out. A typical clinical setting; nothing to indicate stalking entities.

“Turn on a few more lights, Brad,” Devlin stated, as if reading her thoughts. “There's nothing comforting about shadows.” He stepped from the elevator and headed for a lighted area, about halfway down.

“Hold on,” Brad cautioned, plucking at his shirt sleeve. “I need you both to follow me. Francis' son, Danny, is seriously ill. I need you to read his aura for any blemishes.”

Brianna frowned. It was just like the doctor to expect they still knew how to recognize a blemished aura after all this time.

“Noted.” Devlin said. He sketched a wave at Brianna. “We'll trust our instincts as we go. Hopefully, what I don't see, you will, and vice versa.”

Brianna gave a relieved sigh at his words. For a moment, she thought he meant to abandon her. In the elevator, she had experienced an insane, brief desire to lean against Devlin and fit her fingers in his. What would he have done if she had?
Pull away,
her inner voice supplied.
Dropped your fingers like a hot potato.

The doctor moved to the first door on their left, and following, Brianna peeked in. She studied the long-legged figure leaning over the bed. Eerie. That was the message relayed to her brain. Her gaze swept the series of tubes crisscrossing the bed, and she craned her head to view the occupant under the sheets. Young. Obviously, Danny Lord.

“What are you doing out of bed, Sally?”

The hunched figure standing next to the bed swung about, clearly startled by the doctor's question. Brianna recognized the freckled face of Sally Carver at once. Some things never changed, she mused. Sally was still flashy in dress and sporting a hair-do fresh out of the seventies. The stocky woman straightened her shirt top, and stepped away from the bed.

Even sick, Sally was a marvel in hooped earrings and bangle bracelets. The sound of clinking metal was amplified in the room as Brianna saw her eye the doctor, and then move onto her and Devlin. Her recognition was instant.

“What are
they
doing here?” she demanded. She took a formidable stance in front of the bed, glaring at the pair, and then the doctor. “Surely, you are capable of finding a solution without bringing in outsiders. After all, you have been attending to our ills for decades. Did they even consult the Council before coming here? I don't remember hearing Francis talk about it.”

“Fortunately for all of us, you're not in charge of the coven,” Brad said, “Charles is.”

Sally's expression soured at the doctor's insult, and Brianna was sure the pair had butted heads many times before. She could see why. The vibrant personality that had marked Sally's younger years had vanished completely, leaving a matronly snob in its wake. And she had, what? Ended up marrying Francis after her sister's death? It was hard to believe the pair would find comfort in marriage, but then opposites were often drawn to each other. However, right now that didn't matter. The energy level in the room needed to be brought back to a pleasant decibel.